I painted no fictitious sorrows.
What I had seen and keenly felt I could truly tell,--your cheerful
patience, Bess's faithful love, my struggles, hopes, and fears. This
book, unlike the others, was not rejected; for the simple truth,
told by an earnest pen, touched and interested. It was accepted, and
has been kindly welcomed, thanks to you, Jamie; for many buy it to
learn more of you, to weep and smile over artless words of yours,
and forget their pity in their reverence and love for the child who
taught the man to be, not what he is, but what, with God's help, he
will yet become."
"They are very kind, and so are you, Walter, and I shall be proud to
have you rich and great, though I may not be here to see it."
"You will, Jamie, you must; for it will be nothing without you;" and
as he spoke, the young man held the thin hand closer in his own and
looked more tenderly into the face upon his arm.
The boy's eyes shone with a feverish light, a scarlet flush burned
on his hollow cheek, and the breath came slowly from his parted
lips, but over his whole countenance there lay a beautiful serenity
which filled his friend with hope and fear.
"Walter bid Bess put away that tiresome work; she has sat at it all
day long, never stirring but to wait on me;" and as he spoke, a
troubled look flitted across the boy's calm face.
"I shall soon be done, Jamie, and I must not think of rest till
then, for there is neither food nor fuel for the morrow.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100